The Serpents Fire
by darknesslingers
Summary: A Seventh Book Setting seen through the eyes of Draco Malfoy. No slash romances, No sex scenes, but the odd swear word and graphical violence hence the rating.
1. Introduction

The Serpents Fire

A Seventh Book setting through the eyes of Draco Malfoy. 

Notes: All Harry Potter characters and places of references are © JK Rowling and Warner Bros Inc, with the exception of my made up characters. 

Silence. Nothing but blissful silence. It couldn't be peaceful, for there were no discussions of peace to make it seem fitting. A group of about three men and one teenage boy stood in a circle; all heavily cloaked, around a fire. There was an obvious leader of the group, as he did most of the talking and the others simply remained silent. An evil moon rose above the tops of the trees, it's rays dancing across the faces of those of whom the moon chose to reveal. But alas, all the men were wearing white masks. 

The teenage boy shifted his weight from one foot to the other as he listened inventively to his leader's plans of corruption, knowing if he said one word out of line he would certainly be punished for it. His eyes wondered to the other two men, both he knew and highly respected above any other. The leader on the other hand; brought him great fear and he worried greatly about what his task would be. The fire finally died down as the leader finished his speech, and vanished with a loud; echoing crack. The two men gave a concerned glance in the direction of the teenager, who simply nodded at them; indicating he was all right. Then, all three of them disapperated with the same crack as their leader did moments before. 

The Malfoy Manor, a beautiful large home situated on the outskirts of Wiltshire; near the famed ruins of Stonehenge. Due to its size, any normal person would wonder there were many occupants of this house. But yet; it bore only three, along with five or so House Elves; but the family itself chose to pretend the House Elves did not exist. A young man around the age of seventeen, walked up to his backyard Quidditch pitch; a Firebolt in hand, a sixteenth birthday gift from his parents. Two other young men stood alongside him; rather over towering, as they were both tall and wide. This boy on the other hand, was tall and slim. The perfect qualities of a Seeker. He nodded to the two other boys as they set the Bludgers loose and kicked off the ground on their broomsticks. He waited for a few moments, just hovering above the ground on his own broom; studying the sky for any glint of golden light that wasn't the sun. Then, he spotted it. Almost ten feet away; he took off; the wind buzzing past his exposed ears, his eyes squinting as he ducked and rolled on his broom from an on coming Bludger. So close, he could almost imagine his enemy Seeker breathing down his neck. Suddenly, the Snitch vanished. He stopped in mid air; and blinked. Where did the ruddy thing go? Brushing a strand of blonde hair from his eyes; he studied the grounds again, and again had to duck from the same Bludger that almost hit him before. 

"Watch where you're hitting those things you stupid fools!" He bellowed over his shoulder, as a golden light zoomed over his head. He blinked; and took off at top speed; plummeting toward the ground, arm outstretched as the Snitch continued to fall to the ground, he wondered if he could make it… 

He pulled up just inches from the grass and noticed a few field rats scamper in fear away. He continued to skim across the top of the grass, his hair flying around him; until the Snitch was just inches from his fingers then…

BANG. He looked around frantically and noticed his father standing in the middle of the Quidditch Pitch, holding his wand in the air. And he was heading straight for him; as was the Snitch. He sped up with a grin, his fingers groping around the Snitch's middle; then pulling up only a mere foot from his father, as he dove out of the way. He hovered in the air above his fuming father; watching with sheer delight as his father adjusted his robes and hair; only to know what was coming for him. 

"Draco! Inside. Now!" 

Please review! I will add the next part only when I receive a review. No flames, please!


	2. The Malfoy Manor

The Serpents Fire

A Seventh Book setting through the eyes of Draco Malfoy. 

Notes: All Harry Potter characters and places of references are © JK Rowling and Warner Bros Inc, with the exception of my made up characters.

~Thanks for the last review. I do expect more, but here's the next part!

Draco Malfoy was the boy's name, and he looked toward his two friends; Crabbe and Goyle; who were now holding the Bludgers as best as they could on the ground. He gave an odd look toward his father, and landed onto the soft grass below; the Snitch still quivering in his palm. Draco grinned and pocketed it. 

He pushed open the large doors to the family Manor and was greeted by his father in the hallway. "Draco, you haven't done any of your set homework since you returned home". Lucius said cautiously, knowing he would of embarrassed his son in front of his friends but it didn't bother him the slightest. 

"Oh but father…" 

"No buts. Crabbe, Goyle; you can come around later. Draco, either you do your homework otherwise you will not be allowed out of the house until term starts". 

"But what about…" 

"Enough!" Lucius hated raising his voice around Draco, but on occasions such as this it had to be done. He swept his cold eyes across the two large teenagers in front of him, and they left the Manor in a matter of seconds. "Do as I ask, Draco. I do not want trouble". 

"Fine". Draco retorted, glaring at his father. He then retreated up into his bedroom; placing his Firebolt against the wardrobe and sat at his desk. It was bad enough that he was still being treated like a three year old, perhaps it was the fact that he was acting like one. Draco gave a low sigh; flicked on his stereo and began work on his Potions essay. 

A few days later and the only thing that Draco had to complete would be his Defence Against the Dark Arts assignment. He loathed that subject, and always saved that subject until last. He gave a snort and slammed last year's textbook shut; throwing it into the bin. Perhaps he should forget about it all together. He heaved a sigh and walked over to his window; glancing out. The side of the house he was on showed half of his Quidditch Pitch and the lake nearby. The day itself was beautiful, not a breath of wind and a nice temperature that anyone could handle without discomfort. There was a soft knock at his door and he turned to see who was there. His mother poked her head around the corner and gave a rare smile, then entered the room; draping her delicate hands in front of her.  

"I've decided to take you to Diagon Alley a little earlier this year. To avoid the crowds. Your father won't be coming; for obvious reasons". Narcissa Malfoy glanced at Draco as if to say he had done something wrong. He tilted his head at his mother and simply shrugged. 

"Whatever". Diagon Alley never impressed him. Perhaps if there were a new broomstick model he could pester his parents for then perhaps it could be considered as impressive. But the main area he wanted to check out would be Knockturn Alley. The Alley famous for its devotions to the Dark Arts, and where many of the homeless choose to live. Draco had only been there once, in his second year; with his father; to sell some illegal objects that his father kept in a drawing room under the study. He flashed his mother a charming smile, one that would normally make her give into whatever he asked of her. "Mother, will we be going to Knockturn, today?" 

"As a matter of fact we are". Draco felt his heart leap. "Your father has requested some various poisons. For what reason I do not know, I never ask your father about that sort of thing". 

Draco nodded. "Right, I can go in and get them. To avoid attention to you. Please?" 

His mother paused and pursed her thin lips together. "Very well, my dear. Just remember to try and be inconspicuous, I do not want you to draw attention to yourself either". Narcissa drew her son into a warm embrace and kissed him delicately on the forehead. "Go change into your robes and we will leave shortly". 

"Thank you, mother!" Draco beamed and closed his bedroom door once his mother left. He quickly changed into his Slytherin robes that needed replacing as he had grown since last year. He heaved a sigh; and muttered a spell that made them longer. He would still need new ones; though. Draco pocketed his wand and went downstairs; got the poisons list from his father as he and his mother Disapperated to Diagon Alley. 


	3. Knockturn Alley

The Serpents Fire

A Seventh Book setting through the eyes of Draco Malfoy. 

Notes: All Harry Potter characters and places of references are © JK Rowling and Warner Bros Inc, with the exception of my made up characters.

To Draco's surprise, Diagon Alley was bustling. There were about four weeks until term started, and a lot of the shops were already packed. _Probably first years. _Draco thought miserably. He sighed, as his mother gave him a brief smile before vanishing into Flourish and Botts.  Draco pulled the poisons list out of his robe pocket, and scanned it; then quickly shoved it back in again when he caught a familiar figure walking down the other end of the street from Gringotts. _Potter._ Draco looked around and made a break for Knockturn, slipping in front of a large man that was going down there as well. He then turned and walked a few feet before entering Borgin & Burkes. This shop specialised in Dark Arts objects. Draco casually rested himself against the bench and glanced around at the various floating objects in jars. Running a hand through his hair, he slammed his palm down on the bell nearby. 

"Oh all right, keep your knickers on… good grief! Young Master Malfoy. What a surprise!" A fairly elderly man wondered out from the back room. He looked greasy and smelt rather odd, his clothes were stained and from the looks of things, he hadn't shaved or bathed in months. Draco wrinkled his nose and threw the list on the counter. 

"Good day, Mr Borgin. I err… require these poisons. No questions asked. Understand?" Even though Draco was much younger than the man before him, the elder gave a quick nod. He didn't want to get on the wrong side of the son of Lucius Malfoy. Mr Borgin vanished into the back room and Draco turned to face the shop. He felt rather odd, standing here in Hogwarts robes buying Dark Arts objects. But it made him feel unique, and gave him an authority of power which he loved. He heard the shuffle of feet and turned his attention back to the counter; as Mr Borgin pushed a black box in front of Draco. His eyes glazed over it, of course he had a fair what many of the poisons were but from what he gathered they were the right ones. 

"Have someone deliver them to the Manor. Not by owl; though. Hand delivered. By this evening". Draco dropped three Galleons on the table. "No questions asked". 

"Yes Master Malfoy. Thank you, they will be delivered as asked",  Mr Borgin quickly pocketed the Galleons; bowed and Draco swept out of the shop. He then turned and headed back up to Diagon Alley; only to run into the least person he wanted to see. A bushy haired girl fell backward with a loud 'Oomph!', books flying out of her arms. Draco looked at her rather startled, but soon ignored it the minute the girl looked up at him. The Gryffindor crest sat proudly above her left breast, and she pushed her hair out of her eyes. With a huff, she placed her hands behind her and leapt upright. She stood at least a head shorter than Draco, and it pleased him a little. He smirked at her. 

"Mudbloods don't normally have good directional skills". Draco folded his arms across his chest. 

Hermione Granger was her name. She flashed Draco a violent glare, one that would normally make her friends shut up or simply quiver in fear. But it obviously had little effect on Draco Malfoy. She avoided his harsh comment with ease, and noticed the fact that he had just exited Knockturn Alley. 

"So", she began, and with a single flick of her wand that was now withdrawn she called her books back up into her arms. "What were you doing down there?" 

"Avoiding dirt like you". Draco retorted with a sneer. "Get out of my way". 

Hermione blinked a few times, then stepped aside. She normally would have a battle of the wits with Draco, but the minute she saw his mother emerge from the bookshop she thought otherwise. 

Draco ran his fingers through his loose blonde hair and sat down at a bench nearby. He rubbed his shoulder where Granger had slammed into him, and snorted. He turned his head and noticed his mother coming toward him; and Granger off to talk with Potter. _Obviously discussing various reasons as to why I was down there. _He thought harshly, then got to his feet when his mother arrived. 

"Here you are, darling. I forgot to give you your letter that arrived this morning". Narcissa reached into her purse and pulled out the familiar Hogwarts letter Draco received each year. This one, however; was a little thicker. 

"Mother, why give me this now?" 

"It slipped my mind". She shrugged. "Go on, open it". 

"It's just the stupid list of items they want us to buy". 

"Draco! Open the letter!" 

"Fine". He sat down again and Narcissa beside him, as he tore open the envelope and pulled out the first letter. As usual, the list of supplies for the next year. Along with the fact that he required dress robes for the Graduation Ball. "Nothing impressive there, mother". He took out the other letter and to his amazement another badge fell into his lap. "It can't be…" Draco unfolded the letter and allowed his mother to read over his shoulder. 

_Dear Mr Malfoy, _

_We are very pleased to inform you that after much discussion; you have been made Head Boy of Hogwarts. Please find your badge enclosed and I hope you will perform your duties as we expect you too. _

_Sincerely, _

_Albus Dumbledore_

_Headmaster of Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry._


	4. Strange Events

The Serpents Fire

A Seventh Book setting through the eyes of Draco Malfoy. 

Notes: All Harry Potter characters and places of references are © JK Rowling and Warner Bros Inc, with the exception of my made up characters.

To everyone's relief – A longer chapter! Yay!

Draco looked down at the badge in his lap. Then back up at his mother whose eyes were filling with tears. She flung her arms around Draco and whispered "Just like your father!" 

He blinked. He couldn't believe it. Draco simply picked up his badge and studied it in his palm. The Hogwarts Crest with the letters HB inside it. He couldn't believe it. After the way he had acted in school, what his father had done; and he was Head Boy. Draco gave a gulp as he removed his Prefect badge and replaced it with the Head Boy badge, scowling as the pin pricked his thumb. His mother had finally taken a tissue from her purse and was now dabbing her eyes with it. 

"Did it say who Head Girl was?" She asked, sniffling. "I hope it is not that horrible Granger girl". 

Draco reread the letter. He shook his head, as a lump heaved in his throat with the looming threat of Granger being Head Girl. The time they'd spend together. The thought alone was a nightmare. "No. It didn't say. Do they normally leave it for the two to find out for themselves?" 

Narcissa shrugged her shoulders. "I'm not too sure. I think they do, it was a surprise for your father". 

"And who was Head Girl in his year?" 

"Your disgraceful Aunt Andromeda". 

Draco's mouth gaped open in horror. Granger would be Head Girl for sure. 

He struggled to keep his parcels in his arms, until his mother had found a basket. Draco dumped his books in there, and headed into the Apothecary in Diagon Alley to gather some Potions ingredients needed for the year that he was running low on. He felt a familiar presence brush past him, a figure wearing black; and he put the jar of Joberknull Feathers back on the shelf that he was considering buying for the sake of it. It didn't surprise him that the familiar presence was his own Head of House – Professor Snape. The shop slowly started to fill, so Draco didn't bother to ask who Head Girl was for the time being. But, upon turning back to the shelf he was looking at; a voice interrupted him. 

"Congratulations is needed, I believe". The deep voice was fairly hushed, as if not to attract attention. Draco turned and found Professor Snape standing nearby. He smirked. 

"Thank you, Professor". Draco quickly put the same jar of feathers back on the shelf and he had noticed it had sparked Snape's interest for a few brief seconds. "You don't happen to know who the Head Girl is, do you?" 

He glanced down at Draco as if he had just insulted him. "Draco, if I told you who the Head Girl was; you would make a fuss, and I do not wish such a thing to happen in my presence so in other words; I will not tell you". 

Draco shrugged. "It's Granger, isn't it?" 

"You will find out soon enough". Severus wrinkled his lips into a brief smirk, purchased his potion ingredients and swept outside. 

Draco sighed, and threw the Joberknull Feathers into his basket anyway. They might come in use for his father. Like Snape, he purchased his ingredients; and left the building. His eyes drifted to his mother who was in deep conversation with the Minister for Magic's wife at a coffee shop nearby. Draco decided to let the two talk; and was rather glad his father was at home. His father escaped Azkaban just before he started sixth year due to the fact that the most prized guards of Azkaban Prison had fallen under the control of Voldemort. The Dementors; as they were known. Draco glanced around briefly as his eyes fell on Quality Quidditch Supplies. There was a new broomstick model gleaming in the window. He rushed over, quickly dumping his school things by his mother's side; and joined the group of young boys who were admiring the world-class model. The Firebolt X-100. Draco literally felt like drooling. The broomstick was incredible. It was entirely black – similar to his Nimbus 2001 model. But instead of silver foot clasps, they were gold. And in silver writing at the top of the broomstick read: Firebolt X-100. Draco spotted Potter coming over and he scowled. Somehow, that pathetic boy would manage to score that broomstick. Well. This time it wasn't going to happen. Draco wondered inside and overhead from a passing student grumbling that the broomstick was a hundred Galleons. Draco's mouth gaped open. Sure, his family was wealthy. The first Firebolt Model alone was fifty Galleons. He doubted his mother would even consider getting that broomstick. Casually, Draco walked up to the counter. 

"Excuse me", He said; stiffly. "How much are you willing to bargain for the new Firebolt?" 

"My dear boy, that broomstick is not yet for sale! There are only seven models known in the entire world and they have gone to the American Quidditch Team for the World Cup. I am awfully sorry". 

"What about the model in the window? Is that realistic or just a Muggle broomstick?" 

A few ears pricked up at that question. A girl who looked around Draco's age turned to listen in. She was holding a copy of a book that detailed American Quidditch History. 

"It's the real model. But no one would be able to afford it. Because it is not for sale. A boy of your age would never have the money to buy that model even if it was in the store". 

Draco suddenly coughed. "You don't know who I am, do you?" He sneered, coldly. "Perhaps my father's name might ring a bell?" 

The owner darted around and quickly hurried his other customers out of the shop, including the girl who walked out with the book in her hands. She walked back in however, to give it back; just as Draco announced his name. 

"You!" She bellowed. "The son of a murderer!" 

Draco spun around violently and glared at her. "What did you call me?" 

"You heard me". She spat. Her accent was strongly American. "The son of a murderer". 

"Now, now children. We don't need a fight to break out… Miss; do you mind coming back at a later time? I am afraid this store is…" 

"I will NOT come back later until I finish this little prat off!" She drew her wand. 

"Oh a prat, am I?" Draco hissed. He didn't draw his wand, surprisingly enough. "I don't even know who the hell you are!" 

"Please…" The owner began again; as the girl's face went red with anger. 

"Oh you don't. But your father might". She snarled, as Professor Snape walked into the shop. He felt the tension in the room, and glanced from the girl to Draco; and the back to the owner. 

"I apologise. This young lady is experiencing some mental difficulties. I apologise on behalf of her for her actions", with that, Snape grabbed her arm and dragged her out of the shop as the girl bellowed

"Mental difficulties! You are the one with mental difficulties!" 

Still fuming, Draco turned back to the counter. "Now. We were discussing about that Firebolt?"

"Oh, yes of course…" 

Draco had organised for the Firebolt to be delivered to the Manor, disguised as a prize that he had won in a competition. His father would murder him for spending that much of his own savings on a broomstick. But he had to beat Potter this year in Quidditch. He had to. Draco spotted Granger a few minutes later in the Ice Cream Parlour with Potter by her side. He swallowed, and marched up to her. 

"Congratulations". He hissed. 

"For?" Hermione said, turning around to face him; Harry keeping a close watch on the two. 

"Becoming Head Girl". 

"I don't know what you're talking about". Hermione finished, narrowing her eyes at Draco; then her eyes fell to his chest which bore the Head Boy badge. "Dear Lord!" 

"You didn't get the letter obviously. Well, that's another burden lifted off my shoulders. So pleased to see that I will not be spending more time with you than needed. See you around". Draco grinned, and noticed Harry's shocked expression. He left the Parlour; feeling rather pleased and relived.


	5. The Arrival of the Firebolt X100

The Serpents Fire

A Seventh Book setting through the eyes of Draco Malfoy. 

Notes: All Harry Potter characters and places of references are © JK Rowling and Warner Bros Inc, with the exception of my made up characters.

I promise… it will get exciting soon!

A few hours passed and Draco had finally finished his shopping, then he and his mother returned home for the evening. Dinner was served, and there was a fairly awkward silence at the table; before Lucius decided to break it. 

"I hope you bought the poisons I requested, Draco". 

"Yes, father. They're being delivered…" The doorbell rang. "Here they are now. I'll go get them". Draco dropped his napkin on the table, rose and headed to the front door. To his amazement, it was his Firebolt. He grinned, and took it from the Elf that had answered the door. 

"It looks as if I won a competition that was being held in the Quidditch Times". Draco said with a smile as he wondered into the Dining Room and presented his new Firebolt to his parents. "Behold! The Firebolt X-100. Only eight models ever made, seven going to the American team; and I am now holding the last model created". 

His father's eyes narrowed. "You bought it. Didn't you". 

"Of course not, father. Here's the letter that came with it". Draco took the envelope off the broomstick and handed it to his father. He grinned; wider. "Now I know I will beat Potter this year at Quidditch". 

Narcissa remained in shocked silence as Lucius slammed the letter down on the table. "I can read your face like a book, boy. You did buy it!" 

"I swear father, I didn't! How could I when there are only eight models in existence?" 

"Perhaps Draco is right, darling…" Narcissa began but was suddenly cut off by her husband's index finger that he rudely shoved at her, indicating to be quiet. 

"I will have your mother check your account balance tomorrow. If there is a substantial amount of money missing, you will sell that Firebolt and you will be grounded until term starts. If there is not; you may keep the broomstick. Understand?" 

Draco gulped. "Yes, father. Understand". How on earth was he to get a hundred Galleons back into his account by tomorrow morning? Dinner finished in silence and Draco excused himself from the table as the doorbell yet again rang. This time; it was the poisons. He sighed, and carried his Firebolt X-100 up to his room and closed the door. He put it along side his old model, took out his quill and parchment then wrote to his friend Pansy Parkinson. 

_Pansy, _

_Can you do me a really big favour? I need to borrow a hundred Galleons. I will pay you back, I swear. But the problem is, they need to be deposited into my account tonight. I'll pay you back and take you out to dinner. Please reply as soon as you can. _

_PS, believe it or not but I am Head Boy for this year. Thankfully, Granger isn't Head Girl. Was wondering if you were Head Girl. _

_From, _

_Draco. _

Draco stood up from his desk and attached the letter to Aries' leg. "Deliver this to Pansy and be quick about it". The owl hooted confidently and took off into the night sky. Draco heaved a sigh and sat down at his desk again; fretting. 

He had fallen asleep at his desk and a few hours later, Aries dropped a letter on Draco's head. He woke with a start and drew his wand; only to realise it was a letter that attacked him. The owl settled himself on the perch near the window; and watched as Draco tore it open. 

_Draco, _

_A hundred Galleons? Are you mad? What do you expect me to do? Rob a bank? Fine. I've deposited the money anyway after getting a few odd looks from the Goblins mind you. Congratulations on becoming Head Boy, but no I am not Head Girl. Have you tried asking Blaise? _

_From, _

_Pansy. _

Draco heaved a sigh of relief and ran his fingers through his hair that he decided to grow out. It was now just hanging past his shoulder blades. He tucked Pansy's letter underneath his Potions textbook and grinned to himself. His father would never know. But how to pay Pansy back? He sighed and figured he would simply take her to an expensive restaurant and spend all of that money on her. Draco only considered Pansy as a friend. He knew she had a crush on him though. It wasn't obvious. He sighed, changed into his pyjamas and went to bed; as the image of the strange yet attractive girl entered his mind again. 

                                                                                ***

The group had grown since last time. The others had returned. The leader drew his wand and paced in front of the group that contained about seventeen, including himself. The teenager felt an itch under his mask but chose not to bother with it and sighed silently, watching the figure ramble on about plots of world domination. The teenager could have sworn he heard the figure mention something about taking control of the British Government. He blinked. It couldn't be possible, could it? He sighed once more and continued to listen, wondering if the others around him found this rather boring. The meeting lasted for a good few hours, the boy himself learning a few new Dark Arts curses. He seemed to excel at them and it pleased the figure, but at the same time received the Cruciatus Curse for talking back. Soon, the meeting finished. Tired and suffering in great pain, he Disapparated out. 

***


End file.
